


Something Had To Give

by eris_kyrall (kereia)



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 20:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5470169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kereia/pseuds/eris_kyrall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They should have known that <i>not</i> inviting their parents to their wedding would have consequences. But no one expected this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Had To Give

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/gifts).



> Nary,  
> you left me with a wide open playing field, and this was so much fun. 
> 
> Happy Holidays!
> 
>  
> 
> My apologies to mothers-in-law everywhere. In my defense, the two in this story are canonically both portrayed as narrow-minded and judgmental. (So sorry, not sorry, I guess. :-P )

**Something Had To Give **

 

Dot looked at the shepherdess figurine on her kitchen table and tried her best to ignore the shouting match on the other side of the door. For one long moment she wanted to cry. Then she picked up the rolling pin and smashed the figurine into a thousand pieces.

 

* * * * * *

_Four hours earlier_

“Mrs. Collins. This is a surprise.” Dot smiled and opened the door a little wider in order to admit Hugh's mother.

The woman strode into the hallway, her tall figure sweeping past Dot as if she was barely there. “A pleasant one, I hope,” she said in passing. Clutching a basket to her chest, she reached the living room and pivoted on her heels. “This really is a lovely home.”

“I... thank you.” Feeling somewhat foolish with the doorknob still in her hand, Dot hastily closed the door and followed her mother-in-law. “We're just about finished settling in. I put away the last of the boxes today.”

Mrs. Collins sighed as her gaze rove across the arrangement of rooms. A look of pride settled on her face. “My Hugh always had excellent taste. I always flattered myself that he got that from me. He certainly didn't get it from his father's side of the family.” She scrutinized Dot from head to toe, making her squirm. “Had any visitors today?”

Thrown by the sudden change in subject matter, Dot opened opened her mouth, then closed it again before she shook her head. “I did not expect any visitors today.” She hesitated, wondering if she'd forgotten an appointment. “Should I have?” she asked when her mind failed to offer a suitable explanation for the odd question.

“Oh, never you mind, dear.” With a dismissive shrug, the older woman proffered her basket to Dot. “Here. I wanted to give you something. A few belated wedding presents, if you like.”

Accepting the basket with an odd mix of gratitude and discomfort, Dot offered polite thanks in return. And as awkwardness descended into the following silence, she fell back on an old and trusted method of ice-breaking. “I was just about to have tea. Would you like some?”

Hugh's mother regarded her with a sharp smile. “I would love to.”

“I'll be right back then. Please make yourself comfortable.”Dot gestured toward the sofa and placed the gift basked on the low cupboard next to the door. Prominently displayed in the center of the basket was a Bible with a beautifully woven scarlet and gold bookmark around which Mrs. Collins had artfully arranged several articles of infant clothing. Nestled between two tiny pairs of hand-knitted socks was a delicate porcelain figurine depicting a shepherdess holding a staff in one hand while the other rested atop the head of a lamb.

“This is really very thoughtful of you, Mrs. Collins. I know you and Hugh quarreled because he chose to convert because of me, and...” Dot picked up the socks and turned around only to catch Hugh's mother running a fingertip over the coffee table checking it for dust.

For a moment Dot was lost for words at such an open display of rudeness. She bristled, keenly aware that she had been on the back foot since the moment her mother-in-law had shown up on her doorstep.

She straightened and lifted her chin. “I assure you I dusted that table only yesterday, and I will do so again before the day is out,” Dot said, the fierceness in her voice surprising even to herself, but in the back of her mind she imagined Miss Fisher cheering her on and encouraging her to be proud of her accomplishments, no matter how little others might value them. “I used to be in service. I know how to keep a clean house.”

Mrs. Collins seemed irritatingly unperturbed by the rebuke. “Apparently so,” she granted, then promptly changed tack. “How do you like the socks? Do you think they will do?”

Dot took a deep breath. She held the woman's gaze in challenge for a moment, then relented. “They are lovely. It's a bit early of course, but they'll be most useful eventually.”

Mrs. Collin's eyebrows arched high in undisguised astonishment. “Eventually? I'm surprised you aren't showing, yet.”

“How could I possibly be showing?” Dot asked, even as an awful realization made her cheeks flush scarlet. “Hugh and I have been married less than a month. I don't even know if I'm pregnant, yet.”

 

* * * * * *

 

“Mrs. Williams. This is a surprise.” Hugh put down the report he'd been studying and offered a tentative smile to his mother-in-law. It was a smile that slipped off his face rather quickly when confronted with the disapproving expression on the woman's face.

“Is it? Why? I am here to report a crime, and I was under the impression that this is a police station.”

“I... yes. Of course it is.”

“So there is nothing surprising about it, is there?”

Hugh swallowed nervously and reached for pen and paper while sternly reminding himself that he was a Senior Constable, now. And Senior Constables were not intimidated by their mothers-in-law. He was very sure of this.

“No, I don't suppose there is,” he replied, then leaned in and lowered his voice. “Are you alright, Mrs. Williams? Does Dot know about what happened? Would you like me to call her?”

Mrs. Williams drew herself up to her full height, which brought her eyes about level with Hugh's collar.

“What happened is that some juvenile vandals trampled all over my rose bushes and nicked a lawn ornament of great sentimental value,” she said forcefully, and while Hugh still tried to wrap his head around the thought of Mrs. Williams' giving any consideration to sentimentality at all, he was blindsided by her next words.

“And I don't have any intention of troubling Dot with this distressing news. Not when she is in such a delicate condition. Even if I disapprove of this entire situation -- and make no mistake Hugh Collins, I do disapprove. Most strongly -- I realize that she needs to take care of herself, now.” Taking a dramatic breath she barreled on. “Why, I have given birth to four children, myself, and God knows I...”

“What? Wait. Stop.” The pen dropped from Hugh's numb fingers. He was reeling. “Dot told you she's pregnant?” His heart hammered in his chest, though he could not have said whether what he felt was joy, disbelief or sheer terror. “Already?”

Dot's mother fixed him with a withering stare. “Do not play coy with me young man. First, you two insist on an uncommonly long engagement, only to end up rushing to the alter. And too ashamed to tell your parents. Bu I wasn't born yesterday. I will hold it in your favor that you did the honorable thing in the end and at least attempt to become a proper Christian, though getting her in trouble like that...”

His face beet red, Hugh interrupted her. “Mrs. Williams, I assure you their was no impropriety between your daughter and me. It was important to both Dot and me that Miss Fisher attend our wedding, and as she was leaving the country on a...”

“Miss Fisher,” his mother-in-law exclaimed. “My daughter thought it more important that her employer attend her wedding than her own mother.” She visibly tried to reign in her emotions. “Though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised considering that woman's reputation. I don't know why Dotty insisted on working for her. I raised a proper young woman, Hugh Collins, a virtuous young woman...”

“And your daughter remains all of that. The only influence Miss Fisher had on your daughter was to let her flourish into a confident young woman,” Hugh said, his embarrassment sharpened with the bite of anger. “Something she was obviously unable to do under your influence.” He exhaled, his hand darting forward as if trying to snatch back the words that had tumbled from his mouth.

His mortification at his outburst was compounded by the tears that gathered in Mrs. Williams' eyes.

“Oh, I see. Yes, I see now.”

“I am so sorry, ma'am. I shouldn't have...”

“You have turned her against me. You and Miss Fisher. You took my girl and turned her head, and now she won't even speak to me.” She backed away, her expression one of profound misery.

“Mrs. Williams, Dot has the kindest heart I have ever known. If you tried to make peace with her... Mrs. Williams!” Hugh hurried around the counter, but his mother-in-law pushed through the station's door leaving his words hanging in the empty space.

 

* * * * * *

 

An hour later, Hugh was still trying to make up his mind whether or not to tell Dot about her mother's visit, when his wife entered City South Police Station, her face a study in anxiety.

“Oh god, your mother already told you,” he forestalled her greeting. “Dotty, I am so very sorry. I lost my temper, and I shouldn't have.”

Dot gave him a startled look. “ _My_ mother? What do mean?”

“She didn't tell you?”

“I haven't seen my mother since before our wedding, Hugh. What happened? Is she alright?”

Hugh related the whole sorry tale while trying to phrase her mother's accusations as delicate as possible. Judging by the exasperated cast of her features, he needn't have worried about Dot's feelings though. She seemed indignant on his behalf rather than embarrassed on her own.

“After those pictures of us were published, I told her I wouldn't see her again until she apologized for saying that you were no gentlemen. I didn't think it would effect her like that. I mean, I knew she would be angry about the wedding, but not like this. Oh Hugh, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault.”

Hugh gently grasped her shoulders. “No, it isn't. Both our parents made it very clear that they weren't happy with us... getting married,” and god help him, if saying it out loud didn't still bring an irrepressible smile to his face, “and we did the best we could. We tried to make peace with them more than once, and in the end, the people who mattered -- the people who believed in us -- were there.

Dot's watery smile constricted his heart. Rubbing his hands soothingly along her upper arms, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. To his surprise, Dot pulled away, cast a furtive glance around the station to make sure no one was watching them and then pressed her lips to his mouth in a quick, hard kiss. She was blushing prettily when she stepped back, and his heart hammering in his chest, Hugh looked at her adoringly.

“You're right. But after this, I have to see her.” She trailed off, suddenly uncertain, and the anxiety had clung to her earlier returned. “Oh, Hugh.”

“What's is it, Dot?”

Twisting her gloved hands in front of her, Dot closed her eyes for a second to compose herself. “It strikes me as somehow fitting that our mothers are constantly at odds with us, but seem to agree with each other on nearly everything, including the reason we were married so much sooner than we intended.”

“You spoke to my mother?” Hugh asked, surprise evident in his voice.

Dot nodded. She came by the house. She brought presents. And she...” Dot swallowed dryly, her nerves almost failing her. “She...” A noise, half growl, half whimper escaped her throat, and she pressed her fingertips to her forehead in obvious distress.

Trepidation flooding his body, Hugh carefully cupped her shoulders. His relationship with his mother had been tempestuous since she'd thrown him out of her house upon learning of his intended conversion to Catholicism, and as Dot was the cause for said change in affiliation, he'd done his best to shield her from the worst of her vitriol.

“Go on,” he said. “You can tell me.”

Taking a deep breath, Dot visibly steeled herself. “I am afraid, I threw her out of the house, Hugh.”

There was a beat of silence. Hugh blinked. “You did what?” he stammered faintly.

There was a strange sort of floating pressure building in the back of his throat, like a soap bubble that bobbed against the edge of the bathtub before it burst. He stifled the sudden urge to giggle. Senior Constables did not giggle. Nor were they given to bouts of hysterics. And yet, faced with the idea of his sweet and gentle wife (Who had a back bone of folded steel. He was well aware of it.) squaring off against his mother, hysterics seemed a perfectly reasonable reaction.

Where Dot had hardly been able to meet his eyes before, she now lifted her chin, her gaze blazing with righteous indignation. “Not only does she believe that we married to cover up an indiscretion, she made it clear that she believes the indiscretion to be mine alone, since no son she raised would ever be so reckless.”

Hugh rocked back on his heels. “She said _that_?”

Dot faltered momentarily. “Not explicitly, but her meaning was clear.”

“Dot, my mother has a sharp tongue, but to go that far...” He felt her shoulders tense beneath his hands. “Are you sure that's what she meant?”

Anger written into every line of her body, Dot opened her handbag, pulled out a small leather-clad book and thrust it at him. “This was one of the presents she brought.”

Hugh looked at the Bible in confusion. “But that's a very thoughtful wedding gift. We can add our family tree to it and...”

“Open it. At the bookmark.”

Clearing his throat, Hugh let the pages fall open and shifted the piece of cloth. His eyes narrowed. “This is about adultery,” he stated numbly. But surely that was merely a coincidence, there were a lot of passages about adultery in the Bible.

“One of the first things she asked me was if I'd had any visitors today. I thought it odd at the time, but didn't think much of it. But now I think what she meant was whether or not I had any g _entlemen_ callers while you weren't home.”

Hugh's hands closed tightly around the bible. He wanted to believe that it was all just a big misunderstanding. It was his mother. No matter their differences, she was family, and even though the chasm between them had grown steadily, he'd always held on to the hope that both he and Dot would eventually be able to bridge the gap between them and their parents. Suddenly that hope wavered, and that was unacceptable.

After getting permission to take the rest of the day off, Hugh strode back to the main desk and took Dot's hand. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“You will get your mother, I will get mine, and we'll meet at the house in an hour. And then we will have a talk. Because this ends now.”

Dot stepped onto the street next to him. “The two of them in the same room? Well, this should be interesting.” There was a note of wry amusement beneath the obvious worry in her voice, and it struck him how just two years ago, when they'd first met, she would have shied away from any such confrontation, too timid and worried to give offense.

Now, though, she squeezed his hand and gave him a reassuring smile, and once again he was reminded why he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Because she was his rock -- solid and constant and strong, and as long as they stood side by side they would win any battle life threw at them.

“See you in an hour,” she said, and he pulled her close, heedless of the fact that they were in public, and kissed her because he couldn't _not_ do it.

 

* * * * * *

Of course, things did not go as planned.

Even though Dot found her mother at home knitting a small blanket, (“For the baby!”) and she agreed readily enough to accompany Dot, (Dot suspected this was mostly due to her mother's curiosity to see where her daughter now lived, rather than any desire to revisit old arguments.) they had barely made it through the door of Dot's new home before her mother and Mrs. Collins were trading barbs and insult.

After an hour of trying to mediate, Dot was exhausted, and judging by the expression on her husband's face, he felt the same. Taking advantage of a lull in the argument, Dot had excused herself for a minute to brew more tea.

Instead, she found herself in her kitchen with porcelain shards scattered all around her.

Hugh burst through the door, his eyes wide, and she belatedly realized that she must have caused quite a racket. Both their mother's were right behind him, there view obscured by his broad shoulders.

He took in the remains of the figurine, the rolling pin in her hand and the expression on her face and resolutely shut the door in the women's faces.

A second later, she found herself enveloped in his arms, breathing in his scent, her head tucked beneath his chin. She sniffed quietly and blinked back tears. “This is awful.”

“Oh, I don't know. I thought it was a rather pretty figurine,” he tried to joke.

Dot groaned and lightly boxed him in the shoulder. “I could never destroy a Bible, and we will need the baby clothes sooner or later. It seemed a shame to take a pair of scissors to them.”

“But something had to give?” he asked quietly, and there was so much understanding in his voice that it made her battle against the tears even harder.

“Yes.” Rubbing her cheek against his shirt, Dot sighed. “What I don't understand is why she bothered with the presents at all?” Her head came up as a thought struck her. “My own mother, too. She was knitting a baby blanket when I picked her up.”

Her gaze met Hugh's and found it equally calculating. “You don't think...”

He shrugged, a sharp smile tugging at his mouth. “Apparently, their is something they both want, after all.”

A derisive huff escaped Dot's throat before she could swallow it. “Your mother doesn't even believe that the baby is yours.” She shook her head. “What am I saying? There is no baby. I'm not pregnant!”

“Not, yet,” Hugh corrected her.

“Oh, don't start.” She stole a glance toward the kitchen door. It was suspiciously quite on the other side. “If we really have to leverage our mothers' desire to see their grand-children against their disapproval of our marriage, I'm not sure if... Do we really want that?”

“I think that's what we need to figure out. Whether or not they can be a part of our lives. Whether or not they want to be.”

Tugging a strand of hair behind her ear, Dot stepped away from him. “Well, that's their decision, then. But for my part, I am done fighting about this. We'll give them a choice. Either they accept us on our terms or they leave.” She looked up at him, her eyes red-rimmed, but her jaw set with determination. “Agreed?”

Hugh took hold of her hand and tangled his fingers with hers. “Agreed, Mrs. Collins,” he said quietly.

Smiling shyly, Dot rose onto her toes and kissed him for a long minute, while his arm held her against his body. “I love you, Hugh Collins,” she whispered against his mouth when they came up for air.

“And I love you.” He pressed one last kiss to her forehead before he let her go and gestured towards the door. “Once more into the breach?”

Dot took his hand. “I'm right beside you.”

 

THE END


End file.
